The figure
in the
fantasy
grows hazy –
rudely, negligently
lazy –
will not keep
the shape
that made you
gape –
lets the
ardor leak –
leaves the
penis
weak –
and otherwise
abandons you
to randomness
–
probably to
be
bereft
at what is
left.
What is left?
What has
left?
Something’s left.
.
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